Diamond Shards
by Republik Osterreich
Summary: RussiaxAustria. such a pairing exists. Both are reluctant and unsure of why, how, and if they should love. Much angst and emotion. Rated T for only suggestions and possible mild stuff.
1. Chapter 1: A Blank Sheet of Paper

Diamond Shards

Chapter 1: A Blank Sheet of Paper

Ivan:

I can't keep on running forever. It feels like my heart is going to burst any moment from this unknown pain. The tears that I refuse to shed have been frozen into glass shards and are stinging me inside. Right now, I'm bleeding myself from the inside out. This winter, the cold that I am so familiar with, it will be the cause of my death in the midst of change.

I…must be falling in love again. But to be honest, I've gone through this phase of "love" so many times that it feels like I don't know what real love is. Isn't true love the kind that you fine only once in your life? The people I have loved have been replaced countless times. They couldn't have possibly been… "Love".

Sister Ukraine tells me that I have a "blank soul", able to be rewritten over and over again. I think I know what she's really trying to tell me. For your soul not to have a true counterpart, no true purpose, to be "nameless", isn't that the most terrible fate, for your soul to be unnamed?

I've reached the end of the trail, only to discover that I've taken a circular route back home. "Боже мой," how that formidable building scares me now, for no other reason than the man inside it, the man I brought into my home without knowing the consequences I would bring upon myself.

I am scared to death of this man, Генеральный Зимние. Yet I cannot stay away from him. I feel the need to give into my whim, but I know I should not. Looking up at the partially curtained window on the third floor of my house, I stand. How can I give in to my whims when the only way I know how to love is to hurt? I cannot possibly let myself mar that alabaster-carved face of his. I know that if I do, I will waken the monster that everybody thinks I am.

I can already feel the last strands of my sanity trying to slip away. I can only try to tighten my grip on it.

Бог, I want to get my hands all over him, to tie him up to my chair and leave a long gash down his cheeks with my nails. He's mine, and he's not going anywhere. I'm going to…He is…

Pathetic.

Is this the only way I know how to love?

What part of me is remotely even human?

I can only paces along the side of the house and will these terrible thoughts to go away, and hope that, by some freak accident, that I will have a heart, that is normal, kind, and warm as that of the others.

Once I lose him, he might as well be the last one that I am able to "love". I can already see the ending. Is this love? But how dare I say I love him, that dreary doll-like perfection. How could this ever be love? But as much as Roderich confuses and scares me, I do not want to let him go. The moment I let him go, I know I will truly become an unnamed, heartless monster of my nightmares, the one that constantly keeps me awake at night, drenched with sweat despite the cold.

Oh how I long to wake up from this never-ending nightmare!

Translations:

Боже мой: My God

Генеральный Зимние: General Winter

Бог: God

[[Please review! This fanfic…just started flowing, so to say, when I was trying to write something for Spamano. Plus the procrastination. This chapter is me ranting about how Ivan's been paired up with pretty much EVERYBODY. I took a couple of references from "Loveless", but really, story is unrelated.


	2. Chapter 2: snow Angel

Chapter 2: Snow Angel

Roderich:

He looked outside the window at the furious gusts carrying the snow. This place was so different from his own home. But then, he had never traveled so far from his home before. What had compelled him to come here?

He remembered the battle where he had first met Ivan. The Austrian lay in the bloodstained snow while the fight slowly ended. The battle cries ceased, and it had seemed as if the whole world had come to a halt. Like a man gasping for air, he lay on the ground, sobbing, fading. Where had the music gone? Where did the deranged tune of warfare go? Why was he alone in this crushing silence?

The Austrian had almost given in, slowly closing his eyes in order to die peacefully. Ivan, however, seemed to have different plans. Gently calling out Roderich's name, the Russian offered his hand to the dying nation.

"Gott…" Austria muttered. Even now, he could not erase Ivan's image from that moment, His fair hair was fluttering lightly in the breeze, dancing in front of his violet eyes. Perhaps he was an angel sent by God. Perhaps, he was God himself.

They had all tried to stop him when he decided to follow Russia. Elizaveta cried at his feet, begging him not to go, Gilbert tried to restrain him, and even Ludwig had ordered him to stay. He had ignored all that to come to Ivan's side. Sure, as everyone had said, Ivan was deeply flawed, the true embodiment of destruction. Could he save such a twisted God from oneself?

Austria had suffered as well during his stay with the Russian. Vienna started crumbling from neglect, and his former lovers had been attacked, no doubt by Ivan. Also, it was made clear that Ivan wasn't the gentlest lover around. Of course he was scared. But he could not force himself away from this lovely, corrosive, tyrant.

When he hurts me… Roderich thought, I don't care at all. In fact it was almost as if I was satisfied with it, as if I needed it to survive on a day-to-day basis. "Is this normal? To have the Russian bruise me, bleed me, trample me, and to enjoy and indulge in it, was definitely not… normal. Perhaps it was me, not the Russian, who was an abnormal grotesque inside?

Roderich shivered. What a horrifying thought. But then, in the snow covered, inversed country of Russland, nobody could tell what was normal and what was abnormal anymore. The everlasting snow disguised everything, serving as a mask for the ugliest of truths.

What had seen in this God's eyes that day? What sort of mournful, luring music had that flash of violet revealed? Perhaps it was a bit of unexpected kindness within his soul. Ivan, even after hurting the Austrian, had always ended with tears and soft kisses falling gently upon his wounds.

At the core, Ivan was gentle. Perhaps that was why he refused to leave, no matter what the Russian did to him. He ignored the cuts, the bruises, the harsh words, and only felt Ivan's gentle caresses, his apologies, and tearful embraces. This was the real Ivan, the only part of Ivan that he allowed himself to acknowledge.

The freezing rain was knocking softly on the windowpane. Roderich took his slender index finger, drawing a series of sharps, flats, and sixteenth note on the fogged up glass. This insane tune that both he and Ivan were singing had already become a part of their life. There was no turning back, now that it had already been written.

The Austrian opened the windows and surrendered himself to the cold wind.

"Lass es geschehen. "

Translations:

Gott: God

Russland: Russia

Lass es geschehen: Let it happen

[[I should probably be finishing my other fanfic...Procrastination FTW! Reviews please!]]


	3. Chapter 3: Little Bolshevik

Маленький большевик

Little Bolshevik,

Run away into the darkness of the night

Little Bolshevik,

Wait until the blood flows and covers your sight

Don't you love his face when it contorts in pain?

Don't you love his voice when it's scarred by a rude embrace?

Little Bolshevik,

Don't seek reconciliation from the heart

Little Bolshevik,

Merely laugh as he suffers from the start

Love is just a word that I haven't learned to say,

Hurt is just a word that I said too many times to date

Can you hear the violinist screaming in Vienna,

As his city goes up in red flames

His sole instrument laid down on the blood spattered snow cover

Fro you asked him to stay with you that day.

Don't blame me for the adorned tapestries

Curling as they're fed to the wild fire

Don't blame me for you pretty pale white face

Stained with the blood of the beloved Austrian

Stormy purple eyes meet those of striking violet

Bolshevik you asked him to stay (with you)

This fatal answer caused the world stain with red

"Until the day we both fall down and fade."

"Bis den Tag dass alle beide fallen und schwinden"

До того дня мы оба падают и исчезают,

Fingers locked together through the bards to the cold cage,

Bolshevik your eyes are crying red.

.

.

.

Then you lost your grip

Translations:

Маленький большевик: Little Bolshevik

Bis den Tag dass alle beide fallen und schwinden, and

До того дня мы оба падают и исчезают: Until the day we both fall and fade

[[I hate keeping people waiting. So please read this while you wait for the next chapter!]]


	4. Chapter 4: Two Part Harmony

Chapter 3: Two Part Harmony

Reluctantly, the Russian stepped into the house, shivering visibly. A terrified Latvian scurried over to take his coat, disappearing faster than when he had come when the tall man waved his hand to dismiss him. Sighing softly, Ivan climbed the stairs to his room. The Austrian welcomed him warmly, getting up from his chair. "Willkommen zurück, Ivan. "

Glancing sideways, the taller man replied coldly. "You're still here?"

Ivan:

I want to embrace him. I long to confess that I don't know why I'm saying any of this. His already tearing eyes pain me so. But I am too afraid of the consequences. I never asked for any of this to happen.

What is 'this'?

Being vulnerable. Being damaged. Loving. Not being loved. Seeing the flicker on. Seeing the flicker off.

Leaping.

Falling.

Crashing.

I hate telling him that I love him, because I know I will only end up hurting him infinitely more than I can heal him. It's not like I'm trying to mess with his head. I was only messing with my own and he got dragged along for the ride.

He's so nice to me and that freaks the fuck out of me. When a person is terrible to you, it's easier to know where you stand. If someone hurts you, trust is not an option, and you don't have to get scared about maybe having to trust him.

My heart is pounding so much it feels as if it will stop nay moment. This is exactly why I take so much care to numb all emotions, because it hurts. By simply being in his presence, I am blatantly embracing danger. With every second I manage not to look at him, Я лежу.

It happened like this: I met him. He was broken, and I was not. Even when he was on the verge of fading, I fell in love with the proud and defiant look in his eyes. Oh, but those eyes also held a terrible helplessness. There was so much astonishment and questioning in those eyes, it burned me.

And of course, I would willingly take the blame for it all.

Roderich:

His words stung me, relentless in its cruelty. How much more time and effort would be needed to melt his frozen heart?

Of course, I know that he was only bluffing. No doubt he would apologize later, repeatedly saying that he didn't mean it, that he loved me. Will he? I'm not so sure anymore. What would happen the day he stops apologizing? Would I be discarded, just like his many other lovers did? I…am afraid.

I have given up everything I had to come to him. Back then, it had been clear that we had both wanted this fate. Now, he no longer seems so sure. Ivan…what did he really want from me? I don't even know if I have anything left from my former life to turn back to when the Russian gets rid of me. Even if he does, it won't matter. I will only go back to when I was in that battlefield, when I was fading. It will be as if nothing happened.

For now, I will try my best to win this spiel.

If he forgets why I'm here, who I am, I will remind him.

Again,

And again.

Translations:

Willkommen zurück: Welcome back

Я лежу: I lie/I am lying

Spiel: Game

[[...where is this sotry going? It's out of my hands...Suggestions and reviews? Oh, and my favebook roleplay account has been disabled. Please be patient while it works out ^^*]]


	5. Chapter 5: The Lies People Tell

Chapter 5: The Lies People Tell

The Austrian spoke as if it were only a matter of fact. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?" He said, carefully pouring hot tea into the cups set on the desk.

Ivan flinched as Roderich's voice, recovering to counter the argument. "I don't know. Why would you be?" Every word spoken burned him.

Sighing, the aristocrat put down the teapot. Here we go again. "I," he paused to sniff disdainfully, "am here because you wanted it in the first place. Remember, Li.?" He spoke, stressing every syllable in the crucial word.

Ivan:

I want to shout at him, of course, I had wanted it! But things have changed. In all of my once forgotten passion, there was never a man that I wanted more desperately to love and cripple at the same time. He needs to see the reality.

How long has it been since he had gotten a good look at himself in the mirror? Does he pay attention to the bruises and cuts, which multiply with each passing day? Sometimes, it might just be better to admire something you love from afar, because you know that if you obtain it, you will only end up utterly destroying it.

I'm a horrible liar.

The Russian Reached out his hand, brushing it against the cut underneath Roderich's eye. "да, I remember…" He said, gently kissing the wound. "You are impossible." He chuckled, pain tainting the laughter. "No matter what, you love me the most, don't you?" It pained him to look at the stubborn Austrian. He looked so frail. A sudden stabbing feeling made him catch his breath.

Ivan:

It's my heart, always, giving me so much trouble. But, if my heart hurts, it must mean that I do have one, right? Despite the hurt, despite anything and everything, it makes me so happy to know that I do have a heart. Perhaps…it was possible to save him before it became too late? Of course, it would mean having to give up Roderich to someone else. But that way, he would be safer. It's about time I tried saving someone other than myself.

Roderich:

Ja. Ich liebe dich. I want to say so many things right now. But none of them are the right words. Not that I was ever a great conversationalist, of course. All my life I relied on music to say what I needed. The Russian taught me that the end of the music didn't mean anything. How do you repay someone when they gifted you with an entirely new way of seeing the world? How am I expected to resist such a gentle person, whose every touch makes me shiver with delight? I can't even try to hide my feelings anymore, and he knows it.

Is he deliberately toying with me? Perhaps. But I am no longer the helpless nation he thought he knew. Now, I will become the one who is in control. I will show him that I am much stronger that he thinks I am. This time, I will protect him.

The Austrian stood up and hugged Ivan tightly, much to the Russian's surprise. "Ja, Ivan. I love you." He said, sliding his hand down the other's face. He held Ivan's chin, lifting it and forcing Russia to look into his steely violet eyes. "But do you know what else id true?" He smiled, narrowing his eyes in mock pity. "I am also the only one who will cry for you."

He leaned down, and Ivan flinched, looking down. Chuckling he stopped to kiss the Russian, but stopped. Instead, Roderich merely ruffled his hair and walked back to his room.

[[-FREAKS OUT- I'm so sorry it took so long! It was break and the site started glitching on me! Ivan and Roderich's fighting over who's the seme? I think… Suggestions and comments please?]]


	6. Chapter 6: This is Just What We Do

Chapter 6: This is Just What We Do

Ivan's violent shivers intensified in frustration as he saw the Austrian walkout. "Beloved one, Russia muttered, "do you not know I will only end up utterly destroying you?" Shaking his head, he stood up, stumbling to his desk to pout a shot of vodka with unsteady hands. How was it that Roderich could say such things without even flinching? The other man's words possessed such weight upon them. The very memory of it left the Russian feeling battered and bruised inside. Just like Roderich, he thought, smiling bitterly, I'm damaged, too.

Doesn't this make us the perfect couple?

The tall man walked over to the wall where his weapon of choice hung. He slid his hand along the cold metal of the bloodstained pipe. How come it was that he was the only one who had to hurt others in order to keep on loving? He was living an unbalanced lie and a paradox. It was bound to fall, like a house of cards. Ivan was afraid of the moment when it would. Would he be able to bear the pain of heart wrenching loneliness once more? He hoped that he would manage not to fall apart.

Once more donning his coat, the Russian stepped out of the study. Cautiously knocking, he slowly opened the door of the Austrian's room, whispering with his eyes searching the room for its inhabitant. "Roderich? I'm going out." Austria emerged from the shower, drying his hair, with a frightful expression that was enough to stop any other person paralyzed on the spot. But not Ivan.

"Again?" He spoke, disappointment sharply lacing his voice. Ivan flinched. What was this emotion in Austria's words? Its acrid touch left the Russian struggling to stay on his feet. A strong body does not necessarily mean a strong heart. Right now, the assault on Russia's heart was unbearable. 'I need to escape.' He thought, frantically looking for an excuse in his mind. "I…I need to go meet Germany." Now, where had that lie come from? He searched his brain for anything that could back up the deception. "We… have negotiations to go over, Да?" The reasoning behind it was weak but it was bound to be better than just storming out of the room. "I'm late. Пожалуйста, excuse me!" He backed out of the room, hastily closing the door on the other man, who had his arms crossed with a disapproving face. 'Вот дерьмо,' Ivan didn't like the look on that face.

'Really,' Ivan sighed. The living was more terrifying than the dead. He hurriedly looked around him to check if his younger sister was following him. Belarus, it seemed to him chose to take a day off from talking him that day.

Once he entered the woods that surrounded his house, cutting it off from the rest of the world, the Russian stopped. 'Where from here?' He thought, carefully rewrapping his scarf around his neck. He had escaped the house saying that he had business with Germany. Russia's purple eyes clouded over in worry. Yes, he needed to go to Ludwig's house, but his business was not with him. It was merely another gruesome deed to cross off from the to-do list.

Taking out his pipe, he made an experimental swipe at a tree. The metal staff shattered the bark completely, embedding itself halfway into the trunk. Somewhere further in the woods, a frightened rabbit scampered away from the noise. "I'm really nothing but a monster…" Ivan muttered a bitter smile slowly spreading across his sorrowful face. "How could I have thought I could be something else?"

"Forget love." Ivan remarked sarcastically to no one in particular. There was only his infatuation and willing enslavement to Roderich. If he lost even that…the uncontrollable monster would finally be unleashed upon the world. Like an elusive butterfly, the Austrian seemed just about ready to leave any moment. If he was to keep Austria by his side, there was still much homework to do. The Communist laughed out loud. It was the kind of laughter that makes you fear for the person's sanity and starts you off considering your own. He smiled. It felt good to hear his voice again.

He turned around and headed towards the German's house, the ice crystals crunching underneath his boots like broken glass.

Translations:

Да: Yes

Пожалуйста: Please

Вот дерьмо: Oh shit

[[Sometimes my own way of writing scares me. *sighs* This chapter was so unnecessarily creepy and insane. Comments and suggestions? Requests? (now I gotta work on the pile of pairings requested for my Japan fanfic…]]


	7. Chapter 7: Business of Misery

Chapter 7: Business of Misery (They Call Me Monster)

Ivan moved towards the Germans' house with terrifying speed. The winding road was familiar to him. After all, it hadn't been too long ago since his occupation of East Germany had ended. When he reached the town surrounding the house, he found the streets to be completely deserted. While he was walking, he could have sworn he saw faces cowering in the windows, or curtains hastily drown over the glass panes. He chuckled. At the moment to the Russian, nothing could have been more amusing. "Why are you all so afraid of me? I must be such an evil person to make you hide so, Да? How about I warm up a bit before the main event?" He approached the house nearest to him.

Russia was laughing again as he left the town behind him, burning and reduced to bloody rubbles, leftovers from the массовое убийство he had created.

He now stood at the door of the Germans' house. Its impressive frame had been protecting the building for ages. But against the blunt force of the Russians, nothing would be able to remain intact. He raised his pipe, and a moment later, Ivan was walking down the carpeted hallways of the German house, the door now nothing but woodchips. He was giggling uncontrollably. His family seemed to have a talent for breaking doors.

Now he came upon another door. This time, he was not in such a hurry to get himself in. He stood for a while with a grim expression on his face. As much as he needed to get rid of this man for the sake of Roderich, the albino had been one of former lovers, too. Could he really go inside and face this man? He lowered and let his pipe fall. It hit the floor with a muffled clatter.

"Bruder? Was that you at the door?" It was too late to turn back now. He could not run from this. Ivan was not, and never could be such a coward. He stepped closer to the entrance. The best defense, it was said, as to attack. He braced his heart for impact.

"West, I told you not to let Feliciano practice with grenades at our house! How many times do I need to tell you that he'll probably end up blowing himself- Gack!" Gilbert stopped in place as he opened the door, his already pale face taking on a deadly hue of white terror. "Wha…Wha…What are you doing here? Was that you at the front door?" The Prussian stuttered, but forced himself to keep on talking. "You always break the front door when you come over, and now I need to fix it again! This is so not awesome!" He went on, ignoring the fact that hr was not making any sense.

The corner of Russia's eyes twitched in irritation. HE was afraid of confronting this? He pressed his index finger upon the Prussian's lips. "Shhh…Stop making such a holy racket. You're giving me such a headache." He smiled gently. "I only came to talk. Lies, lies, and more lies. This could only get better.

HE slipped around Prussia into the well-furnished room. A fire was blazing in the center of the room. Sighing in content, Ivan walked towards it and stared at the flames. "I would have thought that you got used to the cold while you were staying with me." Reaching out his hand, he allowed the golden tongues of the fire flicker and lick his fingers. He winced absentmindedly and pulled his hand out, flexing his fingers. Growing up, he had only known the bitter biting cold. Was that what had made him so different from everyone else?

How much would it cost him to become 'normal'? Was it enough to breather? Was it enough to love? No. He knew that no matter what he did, it would never be enough. But even then, that was exactly what was so fun about loving Austria. He would continue to feed the forever unappeased appetite of lust. It would flourish under his protection, like a chained monster. 'One day', he thought, amused. One day that same monster would overcome its chains and swallow him while and destroy itself, as well.

But to feed a monster, one must first know how to do so. He swallowed his pride and turned to Prussia. "Gilbert, what should I do to make Roderich love me again?" At the end of the day he would get what he wanted, regardless of what it cost him.

Translations:

Да: Yes

массовое убийство: Massacre

Bruder: Brother

[[This chapter should come with a warning label: "Caution! Space/Time filler!" How'd you like it? Comments/reviews?]]


	8. Chapter 8: Do I Dare Disappear

Chapter 8: Do I Dare Disappear

Roderich sat quietly on his bed, not making an effort to relight the fire that had gone out ages ago. Even as the temperature slowly dipped below zero, he made no other movement, staring blankly at the whitewashed walls he insisted that he would paint when he had the time. Unconsciously holding his breath, once in a while, he would laboriously take a deep breath as if that was what had pained him. But he was tired of living in a world where everyone and everything held its breath.

An hour… and another, and yet another passed by, and the Russian still hadn't returned. Tears began streaming down the Austrian's face when there was a knock on the door, which sent him scrambling to regain his composure. And wipe his face. "C-Come in!" The one who entered the door, however, was not Ivan, but Lithuania, whose passive and emotionless face had always put Roderich on an edge. "I brought your dinner, Austria. Russia told me he wouldn't be dining with you tonight." He set the tray down on the nightstand, and noticing the red-rimmed eyes of the Austrian, quickly turned towards the fireplace, smirking gleefully as he ignited the wood.

So… the schwein had planned it all along, hadn't he? Roderich clenched his teeth, his facial contours sharpening as he shuddered with rage. Feeling the intensity of this emotion, a snicker escaped from the lips of the Lithuanian.

"WHAT…" Austria, standing up, exploded at Toris, who still had his back to the now sobbing aristocrat. "What are you laughing for?" Giggling, the brunette turned around slowly, training his dark eyes on the Austrian. Tilting his head ever so slightly, he replied with a question. "Have you learned your place yet?" Roderich supposed himself with a trembling arm. "Wh-What for-?"

With a lazy smile on his face, Lithuania sauntered over towards the bed and leaned towards Roderich, who was wearing a shocked expression on his face. He spoke softly, "You've never noticed, have you?" Baffled by this sudden question, Austria could only manage to stammer out a startled "uh-"

The expression on Toris's face quickly turned to unbridled disgust as he spat out words of venom. "All mister Russia has been doing nowadays is talk about you. Always going on saying 'Roderich this', 'young Master that', has no time for me, he doesn't. No, none at all. Do you have any idea how… deplorable that is, he paused, holding the aristocrat's face by his cheeks and forcing him to look up, "to see MY Ivan fawn over you like a homely puppy?" Grabbing ahold of Austria's hair and dragging him forcefully to the floor, he laughed hysterically as he kicked the other man repeatedly.

"Oh look," He crouched down, addressing Roderich in an uncharacteristically mocking tone. "now you've made my shoes all dirty... something as pathetic as you don't deserve to have Russia. I wish you would just… disappear." Getting ahold of his victim's hair once more, he slammed Austria's face to the floor, whispering, "I'm sick of seeing him fuss about you, and I'm glad he doesn't want to keep you around anymore… But I wonder…" He smiled innocently, "does anyone want you? Poor young master…" He crooned. "Look at the helpless little thing you have become." Toris petted Roderich's head in mock pity, tucking his disheveled hair behind his ears.

"Where will you go where you're not wanted here?" Gently stroking the Austrian's bruising cheeks with cold fingers, he stood up, walking towards the door. He stopped at the entryway, turning around. "By the way, has he ever told you that he loves you?" He grinned. With a cheerful "Enjoy your dinner", the Lithuanian left the room, smiling all the while.

Roderich pushed himself into a sitting position against the bed, shivering all the while despite the blazing fire. "Would it really not matter…" He mumbled to himself as he stared at the frozen world outside the mansion with a glazed expression.

A few moments later, the Austrian was seen hurrying out of the mansion with nothing but a backpack, stopping only for a moment to stare at the immense forest that separated him from the rest of the world. Shortly after, he continued on, forcing his hesitant feet towards the place he, once upon a time, used to call home.

All the while, a smirking figure watched him leave from the safety of the mansion shadows.

Translations:

Schwein: Bastard/Pig

[[Slowly recovering from a REALLY long hiatus… This is probably one of the darker chapters I'll write. I have so much to do, so little time… I'll try to post regularly from now on! Yandere Liet… what a shocker… Reviews/comments please!]]


	9. Chapter 9: The Always War

Chapter 9: The Always War

"Roderich? As if I would tell you anything about that matter. He is not just another nation you can conquer and annex. Look, the time of empires has gone and passed. I mean, look at me." He said sliding his hand though his snow white hair as he leaned next to the mantle of the fireplace. "I know what you've been up to, and it's not something you want the world to know. Let him go, when no one knows, and when you need not beg for forgiveness after you've been mercilessly struck down." He crossed his arms, looking at the Russian, whose sharp facial features had been lit by the blazing fire. Russia chuckled, amused by Gilbert's shortsighted concern.

"What do you know about me? What do you know about my 'empire'? It is no longer a choice you know. It is a way of life, and the only one I know." He faced the center of the room, flinging his arms open in a grand flourish. "Our greatest ally is General Winter. The biting cold, lengthened and strengthened by the darkened skies full of ash and gunpowder, give us the power we need to wage war. We fight on multiple fronts: The Ural barrier in the West, the Asians in the Southeast, not to mention the barren Siberian landscape. We need no other industry save finding enough food to keep our people alive. But-" He turned towards the stunned Prussian. "Surely you must know this already? Your beloved Frederick must have briefed you on my history… My empress Elizabeth hated him so… but that is a different story for yet another time." He twirled around, a smile of dark innocence spreading through his face. "'Paranoid Ivan'- the names you called me behind my back! 'Building tanks and gun while his people cry out for cars and butter' Yes, I may be backwards and inefficient, and yes, I buried my own nation in the mountains of military might. But in the end, when the motherland needed it, those mountains were what saved her. They were what brought her children back together."

"Is that so?" Prussia asked bitterly. "A way of life? Don't make me laugh. Do you think that justifies what you are doing? Stabbing your own sisters in the back, kidnapping and annexing the unwary, what a fine way to build a family!" He pointed his pale finger at the Russian, his scratchy voice dropping to a low growl. "I don't care what you do in the Northeast all by your lonesome. If somebody finally catches on an decided to bring you down, so be it. It is no longer my business. However-" He balled his hand into a fist and walked over to Ivan, putting it against the Russian's heart. "If you involve Roderich, if you used him and leave him to die in this grand plot of yours… "He locked his crimson eyes with Ivan's violet ones. "I will see your blood flow, and it will be on my own hands."

Russia laughed, one people used to scold an impudent child. "Isn't this why I am telling you this? I want the world to hear this. You're being used, can't you tell? Your mission is to tell your world of mine, to make them understand what would happen if anyone tried to fuck with me. Your war against us, every moment of bitter persecution, drove my people back to their roots." He smiled, laying his hand on Gilbert's shoulder. "I suppose I must thank you for this. My people now remember what it means to be Russian. We are strong, we are feared, and to us, this means one thing: We are safe." He brought his frigid fingers to Gilbert's paralyzed face, outlining the Prussian's eye with his thumb.

"My only regret was that I could not find love. No one truly wanted to love the big burly Russian that destroyed all things in his path, did they? But now, I find that unconditional loyalty in Roderich. He is the only one who keeps me sane. He is my reality. Must you deny me that?" He rested his head on Prussia's shoulder, speaking in a hoarse whisper. "Must you deny me even that?"

"Ivan, I-" Gilbert gently rested his hands on the back of the broken Russian. At that moment, in a flash of blonde, an irate Germans stormed into the room. "Russia, you are to get away from my brother now!" Ludwig shouted as he pushed the protesting albino out the exit. Slamming the door shut, Germany turned to face the taller man, his usually frigid face distorting in rage.

[[This chapter and the next has history/military strategy heavily mixed in it *blames history class* comments on the style? Feedback on the story? Thank you for reading, as always!]]


	10. Chapter 10: Catastrophic History

Chapter 10: Catastrophic History of You and Me

Putting his back towards the door his brother was just ushered out of, Ludwig bristled at the sight of the Russian. "If you're here to take my brother back, you should leave before I lose my temper." He gripped the wrist of his other arm, which was near the holster of his pistol; he knuckles went white at the sheer force of his grip. He fixed his eyes on a spot on the wall just behind Ivan. The German took a deep breath before continuing. "And if you're here for politics' sake, you should be talking to me, not charming the clothes off my clueless brother." He walked towards the Russian, taking slow, measured breaths. "Your words are utter poison, and not for that idiot." He shook his head, a hint of amusement flickering on his face. "He can't even tell right from wrong anymore." His pale smile disappeared, all business once more.

"Now, _I _am a good soldier, but _I _am also a West German. Do you understand the difference? Of course not." He sighed, removing a strand of stray hair from in front of his eyes, which flickered briefly towards the door. "In the East, they were told that they were not responsible for the atrocities of the Second World War, that as Communists. As the queers, gypsies, and Jews, they were just as much victims of Hitler as anyone else. Oh, your words, such poison I've never seen before!" He growled through his grimacing lips. "You now understand why the skinheads and the proto-fascists rose in the East? They did not feel the responsibilities of our past, not like we do in the West. I was told that, even if we wore a uniform, that out first sworn duty was to our conscience, no matter what the consequences, that it was the only way to atone for our sins.

"But Gilbert, what does he know of what we have done? Your 'education' left him so… unaware. He may be my bruder… we may have taken care of each other throughout the years… he may be your communist mess of leftovers, but he's become too much for _my_ people." He chuckled humorlessly. "Imagine, all your poison and Communist ideas seeping into the population from within?" He smiled, pain evident in his expression. "I suppose you'd want me to thank you for giving me the chance to execute my own brother, don't you? I suppose you planned it all along… To sacrifice the former empire to get to Roderich. Madness. I've seen it in you all along, and you've infected us all."

Ivan whispered sullenly. "There is always madness in love, but there is some reason to madness." He looked up defiantly. "Was it not one of your people who said that?" He bit his lips. "Will you really kill your brother?"

"Ah, Herr Friedrich Nietzsche. He thought he knew the truth behind the world." He turned to the window, gazing at the frigid, burning destruction Russia left as he came. "I see you brought General Winter with you. I shouldn't keep you here much longer, for the sake of my people, at least." The German's breath clouded the cold glass. He pursed his mouth. "I had it all planned when I started talking to you. I wouldn't look angry, bit give him any reason to worry. I'd submit a report and apologize for my behavior. Maybe he'd want to apologize to me, too, try to explain or justify his confronting you without me, against my orders. Good, I would think. I'd listen patiently, put him at ease. Then, when he would rise to shake my hand as a truce, I'd draw my weapon and blow his Eastern brains against the map of what used to be our country. Maybe his followers would be there, all the other little Arschfickers who were 'just following orders'. I'd get them all if they try to take me on! It would be perfect, to eradicate the very hint of evil in my country. I'm not planning to goose-step my way into hell like some good little Hitler Jugend. I'd show him, and everyone else, what is meant to be a real Deutsche soldat. He took one look at the Russian's pale face and smirked at it. "So, Ivan, who would you choose? The one who you swear you love now, or the one you loved, who is also on the verge of begin erased from the very fabric of history? Would you choose Gilbert? Would you save him from me, or would you stick by Roderich, an actual piece of land you can still conquer?" "I…" Ivan opened his mouth when a thump on the floor sent both the German and the Russian wheeling towards the door. The Russian drew in a sharp breath when he spotted the Austrian at the entrance, his eyes open wide in shock, his backpack abandoned on the floor. The Aristocrat turned around and fled the room. "Roderich!" [[Originally, the Russo-Austrian alliance during the Seven Years War was because they both held a grudge against Prussia. Next Chapter, I'm going to FINALLY bring Ivan and Roderich back together. That bit about Ludwig killing Gilbert… I have this awful feeling it's going to end up being another fanfic altogether… Reviews/comments? Thanks for staying with this pairing!]] 


	11. Chapter 11: Liar's Covenant

Chapter 11: Liar's Covenant

Roderich:

All this time he had been struggling to hold back this emotions because he know Russia wouldn't want to see him weep. Now though, he couldn't help himself. Stubbornness gave way to tears, and he spoke through sobs.

"I love you do, more than ever, even after today, now that I know everything you've done to my family. But that's beside the point." He pushed away the Russian, who had caught up to him. As Ivan wordlessly reached to brush away the tears on his cheeks, the aristocrat closed his eyes, unable to confront the man who tore at Roderich's heart with his very presence.

'He had truly loved me to pieces,' Austria thought, ignoring Russia, who was gently calling his name. 'I am not the one he loves. Those kind eyes that I cherished so… they were never truly looking at me!' He had been utterly humiliated. His grief, agony, and gray despair was a curse he could not escape. 'I am not real to him. I am not Gilbert.' What had he been doing? He had ben intoxicated by the Russian. Greedy for the Russian's heart, Roderich had not cared if he was just a replacement. He had let Ivan love him to mend their broken hearts. 'Except, of course, that the closer I let him get, the harder it would be to leave him, as I know I now have to.' The Austrian forced his eyes open. How the shy Roderich Edelstein from the house of Germans never would have imagined this very moment, holding the hand of Ivan Braginsky, prepared to part from him into the savage arms of a curious world. The very idea would have terrified him long ago, but now, he felt ready. He looked sadly into the man whom he loved.

"You can go to Gilbert, if you would like. Whatever makes you happy. After all, good or bad, I knew you were destined to do great things in this world." Catching the Russian off guard, he kissed Ivan's cheek. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the man you wanted me to be."

Now, it was Russia's turn to look betrayed. "Roderich, what are you thinking?" He gripped the Austrian's shoulders. "Don't even think about what Ludwig said! What happened with Gilbert is done and over. Let's go back home, where you really belong." Russia was certainly not making this easier.

Austria sighed. "I could never stand in the way of true love."

"In case you hadn't noticed, that 'true love' was wrecked a long time ago long before you came along." Ivan smiled sadly, trying his best to reason with Austria.

"They're all going to judge me, you know. I'd be the jailbait who stole Ivan Braginsky from Prussia, who desperately needed him."

Russia straightened up, a defiant gleam in his eyes. "I'm not going to let those parasites decide how I live my life anymore. If I can say 'fuck you all', you can, too."

"You lied to me. More than once, yesterday, right now… at the time I needed you the most. How could I ever trust you?" He hid his face in his hands.

Ivan looked stricken, then furious. "You think you can just waltz away from me? Just like that?" The Russian grabbed Austria's wrist, bringing it away from his face- not hard enough to hurt, but just hard enough to show that he could hold Roderich against his will and there was nothing he could do about it. "I could make you stay." His eyes glowed with rage.

For a moment Austria was afraid, but that soon passed. "You mean you could lock me in a room and keep me there, just like you did to Gilbert?"

Russia's grip tightened. Then suddenly, he released Roderich.

"You're leaving me?"

"Yes." He hung his head low.

"And you don't care how much you're hurting me?"

"I do care." Roderich said, and stood on tiptoe to smooth Russia's hair and kiss his cheek. Then, he walked straight into his old room and locked the door behind him.

[[*cries*… Reviews/comments? I need a poll: Do you guys want a sad or a happy ending? About 2 chapters left!]]


	12. Chapter 12: Forget Me Not

Chapter 12: Forget Me Not

Roderich:

The problem with being nearly immortal is that, for beings like them, no matter how many years pass, everything is still the same: The bustle of human beings, the wars, life and death. The only thing that change were the faces. And even those managed to drive the Aristocrat to the brink of insanity. He knew that, among the forever changing population of the world, there were those that would never change, never fade away. It was with those creatures called nations that Roderich was doomed to face eternity.

"Ivan…" Roderich groggily stirred in his bed, shielding his eyes from the morning sunlight. Only when he opened his eyes did he realize where he was. Austria had left the German household years ago for a place of his own. It was decades before that in which he had left Russia's care. To remember that long ago as vividly as if it were only yesterday… Aye, that was the curse, indeed.

But even so, did Russia even remember those days? Perhaps Roderich was the only one still agonizing over the past. "…stupid…" He murmured as he rolled over to bury his face in the pillow.

He had seen Russia occasionally, at parties, conferences, and other occasions. But the only times the two had spoken had been on political terms. Even if they were talking to each other face to face, Ivan's eyes always seemed to be fixated on something beyond Roderich. It felt as if Austria was looking at his former lover through the screen on a TV. Just listening to him… Every word the Russian uttered crushed his heart. Back then , when their hearts melded together as one…

But now they were so far apart, and Austria was alone in his own world.

Ivan was the one who understood things there. Ivan could have built up the collapsed country for him, turned it into a place of sense and order. Ivan was going to lead him though the darkness. With Ivan, he would have been okay.

But that was a promise long broken in the past.

There was no before, no turning back the clock.

Everything he was, the life Austria had, the people he once knew… dust.

There was no before, only now, and what comes next, because the old Roderich was dead. He buried it. He left it all beyond the woods, beyond a wall of ice and flames.

'Old grief is an odd sensation: like being buried, but underwater. I am in water the hazy color of kicked up dirt. Every breath is labored, full of choking in muck. There is nothing left to hold on to, no sides, no way to claw your way back up. I cannot do anything but let go.'

To let go. Roderich contemplated the notion as he got up and dressed himself. To let go. To feel the weight all around him, to feel the squeezing of his lungs, the slow, low pressure. Let himself go deeper. There is nothing he can reach for but the bottom. There is no other sensation other than the taste of metal, and the echoses of old things, and days that look like liquid darkness.

He sighed, pausing buttoning his shirt to look outside at the entrance to his house. Of course, he had been through it all. He had already reached the bottom. But even now, he couldn't help but remember every now and them, and wonder what life could have been like for him, had he followed Ivan back to his house. It was during time like these, that Austria would remember that he, in fact, still held a place for Ivan in his heart.

That was the main reason he had become a recluse of sorts in his house over the decades. Because he knew what he might find if he dared venture out: Out through the double iron gates, into a painfully dazzling white landscape. An unexpected March snow, perhaps. Harsh, bright light, trees encased in thick black armors of ice.

He draped a shawl on his shoulders. If he pulled his jacket tight around him and stomped his way out of the iron gates, into the world outside, then what? Risk bumping into Russia during a private walk, and who knew what would happen. He couldn't afford to venture out unnecessarily. He knew where the animals were in this world, on the other side of the fence: monsters wearing uniforms. They spoke softly, told lies, enticed his people, and smiled as they closed in to slit his throat.

This was the man he had become. His future was here, in the confines of this house, unless dragged out by an inevitable conference, away from the world full of icicles dangling, getting ready to drop when he least expected it.

Ivan:

When your heart is bound by so much grief, it is much like hatred.

I'm going to be sick again.

Swiveling around in my chair to avoid looking at all the snow outside, I duck my head between my knees, coughing spitefully to force down the usual sob that stormed through me. Business as usual.

From between my arms, I peek out to see Toris staring at me, oblivious to the fact that I can see him.

Just as quickly as I got sick, the hatred rushes through my blood, hot like the vodka I enjoy so. I want to strangle him. I know what he did all those years ago; I know he said those poison-tipped words to drive Roderich out of my house. What I can't accept is: Why was _he_ still here, instead of Österreich, looking at me with those eyes? Those eyes, filled with uncompensated desire. I know them well. They belonged to me all those decades before, when I still had Austria beside me. Those forever hungry eyes... 'You're no different from Lietuva, ' I chide myself. 'You were once as jealous, twice as vengeful.' But that doesn't make the hatred go away. Instead, it just makes me angrier, more unpredictable.

That is what hatred is. It feeds you, and at the same time, it turns you to rot.

It is hard and deep and angular, a system of spikes and blockades.

In each moment, it is everything and total.

Hatred is the damned tower of Babel.

Even today, I am building and climbing, bracing myself for the inevitable fall that comes later.

[[This is the sad ending I promised some of you, where everyone's über spiteful and messed up. If you want, you can end here, or wait for the next two chapters, where the story continues onto a happier ending (or so I hope). As always, thanks for sticking around! Reviews, comments? Too depressing?]]


	13. Chapter 13: House Cleaning

Chapter 13: House Cleaning

Ivan:

Sometimes I delude myself into thinking that Roderich still lives with me

I'm not crazy.

I know he doesn't- not really. As soon as the meetings are done and I'm hobbling back to my room, it hits me like a wall: The stupidity of all this, the pointlessness. Roderich is gone, and no number of meetings or blackmailing or bleeding will bring him back.

I know it. But here's the maddening part: When I'm struggling, there is always this split second when the pain slashes through me and I can hardly breathe, and all I can see is color and blur- and in that split second, right as it hurts the most, almost unbearable, and the edges of my vision blur, I see something to my left, a flicker of color (auburn hair, a flash of purple, this fluttering jabot) – and I know then, too, that if I would just turn my head. He'll be there with an amused smile, staring quietly, holding out his hand.

I don't turn my head to look, of course. Ever. But someday, I will.

One of these days, I will look and he'll be with me, and everything will be okay.

Until then?

I will fight.

Roderich:

"Oh!" A flushed maid stumbled into the room as Roderich straightened out the collar of his shirt. "Master, I thought you already left. It's cleaning day, after all…"

Austria cursed his forgetfulness. How could he have forgotten? The staff always had a large housecleaning day every month. Normally, the brunette would make arrangements to stag at Ludwig's house. Germany would send Prussia out on errands, and the two would spend a quiet day together, baking and whatnot.

He sighed. Of course, it was impossible to make such last minute arrangements now. He would have to spend his day elsewhere if he was going to spare his lungs from the dust and other nonsense that emerged during cleaning. He grabbed his coat and headed downstairs. "Tell the rest that I'm leaving, so they can continue." He stopped, frowning at himself. "And all of you can take the rest of the day off once you're done. I'm sure I can handle myself for a few hours." He would need some time alone after such an unexpected trip outside.

With a deft motion, Roderich pulled on his jacket and stepped outside.

While strolling down the cobblestone streets of the village, Austria happily looked around at the quaint little shops around him. He was vehemently against repaving the streets here and voted for it to be preserved, for history's sake. He had never regretted his decision. It was, after all, interesting to see the generations pass here, children growing up, replaced by grandchildren, always changing but somehow oddly similar. Such was the terrible beauty of his life.

He was walking, smiling wistfully, past the shops when a woman, ancient yet fierce-looking, beckoned to him with a wry smile. "Come, come. Have something to eat, young one. You wouldn't refuse an old woman, would you?" Austria smiled at this. For him to still be called young, it was an experience he would never get used to. "Of course, mutti." He murmured as he sat down, graciously accepting the plate of pastry the woman passed across the table. As the Austrian ate, she looked at him intently.

"I see the centuries haven't changed you, younf Edelstein." The woman commented casually.

"Huh?" The Aristocrat paused, bewildered. There was something off about the person sitting in front him, perhaps in the way she talked, in the way she held herself-

"Ah, Австрия, don't try to weasel your way out." He hand shot across the table, grasping at his wrist. "I know what you are; you're just like my young master." The cronse's eyes blazed hungrily. "If I devour your flesh and blood, will I become like you, forever young?" she tugged at his arm, determined. Only then did the Austrian look into her eyes, recoiling at what he saw. There was something primal in the woman's eyes, something older that even him that he ciykd not comprehend. Roderich stood up, trying to shake her hand away.

"Baba Yaga!" Someone spoke from behind him. "I leave you alone for a moment and you're already terrorizing the locals? I can't afford to have you stir up trouble. We're only passing through!"

Panicking at the voice he knew all too well, Austria tanked his hand away and turned around, his head bowed low and ready to bolt. It was a mistake to come outside. He shouldn't have-

"Are you all right? I'm so sorry. Did she… Oh-" It was too late to hide his face.

"I'm fine." Muttering, Austria tried to walk past the blonde man.

"Don't kid yourself. For the love of- Roderich, she tried to eat you!" The Russian grabbed Roderich's arm, his face filled with concern. "Look. I know we haven't talked in a while. But at least have the decency to look at me properly!"

Austria took another step with his trembling legs. "I should be going. I'm not supposed to be out here in the first place…" Everything around him felt like an overwhelming blur. "I really shouldn't- I have to go back!"

Russia asked bitterly. "To whom" You have no one waiting for you-"

At that moment, Baba Yaga scrambled over the table towards the Austrian, snarling. "Russia, you miserable whelp of a halfling. Who are you to stop me from getting my fill? She sped towards the Russian, who was dragging Roderich towards the woods. "You've forgotten your duties to the old ones, child!"

Struggling to keep up with Ivan, Austria ran, wincing and stumbling with every blow their pursuer delivered. Halfway into the woods, the ancient witch struck with a ferocity that sent both of them to the ground. Roderich's head struck the trunk of a tree, and he slid down, a trickled of blood sliding down his temple. Seeing the Austrian wince in pain, Russia hurried next to him, opening his mouth to say something. But he whipped around in terror to face the crone who had caught up with them. He stood up, brandishing his faucet pipe.

"I may be young and inexperienced compared to you, but I am a nation. I am the one who rules now, and you have no right to interfere!" Ivan pointed his weapon at Baba Yaga. "Fight me if you wish, but ultimately, you won't get away with treason!"

The witch cackled, hunching over. "Young one, if I finished you here, there won't be any country to commit treason against!" She lunged at Ivan, her sharp claws extended. Russia parried the blow, gritting his teeth and holding his own against Baba Yaga's extraordinary strength. "I can't be hilled. He smiled weakly, turning to glance at Austria. "I have someone I need to protect." He drew a breath, as if wishing to say more, but glared at his opponent in defiance and raised his arms to strike.

Roderich looked at the two fight viciously through his blurry eyes. Everything seemed so hazy. He was scared about what Ivan had to say, and what he had chosen, and what he was supposed t choose in return. But he was even more terrified by what he wanted: for Ivan, and worst of all, from Ivan. Because, despite everything, Roderich _did _want. He wasn't even sure what, exactly, but the desire wss there, along with the lonely bitterness and regret that he had felt for decades.

'But this is not a tower I can build upon. It is an endless, tunneling pit. It is deep, a gaping hole inside me.'

He tumbled down into the darkness towards unconsciousness.

Translations:

Mutti: Mother

Австрия: Austria

[[Last year around this time, I went into a LONG hiatus 'coz of work and exam prep. I'm DETERMINED not to let that happen this year. The story turned a wee bit weird here. But that's how it goes in my head. Comments, reviews, criticism? **Sigh** next chapter is the last one… **crai**]]


	14. Chapter 14: Plan B Fin

Chapter 14: Plan B

Roderich:

It wasn't my first time being unconscious, but it was the first time, I recall, of it ever being…beautiful. As I fell through the darkness, all around me were lights, dancing. I knew I should have been trying to wake up, to go back to Ivan; yet, it was impossible not to wonder why I haven't noticed them before. Perhaps my eyes had been closed; maybe I was too scared I'd see something I didn't want to know. Anyway, the important thing was that _then_, at that moment, I had nothing to lose, and I wanted to desperately _know._ I still don't understand quite what.

Something.

Anything.

Everything.

So I peeked through my lashes to come face to face with the iridescence of colorful lights.

My eyes came to rest upon two flames, one purple, the other a deep violet. I reached out toward them, entranced by its beauty. There was happiness in each and every one of those lights, so complex, enchanting, and… fragile.

I couldn't allow anyone to shatter them.

.

.

.

Austria swam against the darkness, his mind growing fuzzy once more. Then a warmth pressed against his mouth, lips touching his, hesitance and trembling at first, and then harder, with a fierce anxiousness that rose against the darkness. A shudder went through Roderich like the sensation of a dream-fall tugging him away from sleep. He struggled to open his eyes and found himself looking at Russia.

Ivan sighed in relief. Pulling away. "It's still a bit early for bed, you know." At the voice of the Russian, another shiver went through Roderich, not from the fear of the witch, who had apparently fled. His head was clear.

A long silence lingered between them as Austria scrambled up to sit, both of them blushing heavily like schoolboys caught doing mischief. "You know I can't-"

"Does it really have to matter?" Ivan mumbled sullenly. "I think we've grown up enough to have our own opinions, don't you think?" He smiled softly, turning his head to look at the aristocrat.

Austria shook his head slowly, the warmth of their secret still on his lips. "I suppose it wouldn't matter. We could always ignore them when they try to split us."

The Russian chuckled. "Or we could do it my way and bully then into approving of it."

"Like forming an alliance-"

"-and threatening them with an empire." They both laughed, falling back onto the grass together.

"Ja, I suppose we could." Roderich smiled, looking at the violet eyes of the blonde man.

"Carpe diem, возлюбленный. We've got nothing to lose. Would you like to take a swing at Lithuania for starter?"

Austria grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Nein. How about we have another go at that kiss?"

"I suppose we could."

.

.

.

Ivan:

So yes. This is, I believe what one would call a happy ending.

But this is life with Roderich. There will always be many ups and downs.

But was we no know, we will always end up finding each other, no matter how far we have to go, no matter how long we have to wait, until the shards of ice in my heart become beautiful diamonds.

We have more than plenty of time, after all.

That's the thing about being nearly immortal.

Translations:

Ja- Yes

Возлюбленный- Love (as in sweetheart, or boyfriend)

Nein- No

((EHMIGAWT. About time this story finished! I seem to be incapable of writing oneshots. As odd as the pairing was, I hope you liked the story ***cough***OTP***cough*** I hope to see some of you readers again for the other stories I SHOULD be trying to finish…))


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